


The Perks of Having a Road Roomie

by caixa



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Carolina Hurricanes, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Pining, Rookie Year, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22112176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caixa/pseuds/caixa
Summary: Parting is such sweet sorrow.
Relationships: Sebastian Aho/Teuvo Teravainen
Comments: 25
Kudos: 66





	The Perks of Having a Road Roomie

**Author's Note:**

> I love my Finnish cherubs.
> 
> Fiction is fiction.
> 
> Edit: oops, forgot Turbo doesn't drink coffee. Fiction is, indeed, fiction.
> 
> Enjoy!

This hotel room has one of those nice memory foam mattresses that let you sink in a perfectly comfortable nook fitted for every line of your body and just stay there, lie down like on a cloud, pressure free, scrolling down any meaningless soothing junk your phone screen serves you until your brain is numb enough to try and drift off into sleep.

That’s exactly what Teuvo has going on. He’s comfortably and securely on his side, lower elbow and shoulder deep in the soft support of the foam, resting his phone on the edge of his pillow, when the cloud-bed tilts as a split-second warning before a weight, 175 pounds (hits like 250 because of the speed, haha) of angular rookie muscle flops onto him and drapes over his comforter like an oversize cat.

Teuvo will never understand people that would take, say, a domesticated tiger as a pet.

“Hey!” Teuvo tries to elbow the intruder down. “Get back to your own bed, Sepe. I was trying to sleep.”

Sebastian takes his elbowing like his ribs were elastic, just shuffles over Teuvo to blanket him even heavier, and starts digging his pointy chin into the meat of Teuvo’s shoulder.

“No you weren’t,” Sebastian says. His chin rolls over a tense spot on the side of Teuvo’s neck as he speaks, annoyingly uncomfortable, and his voice vibrates in Teuvo’s collarbone. “You were on your phone.”

Teuvo sighs and lets his phone down on the side of his pillow. Sebastian’s weight makes it too damn difficult to hold it up. He glances over his shoulder to cast a scolding look into the brown eyes twinkling above him.

“I _was_. I’m not anymore. Happy?”

Sebastian has rooted his knees on the mattress now, one on each side of Teuvo, and starts rocking him from side to side. He has his palms on top of Teuvo’s upper shoulder and leans his chin to the backs of his hands.

Fucking little prince. Like he doesn’t know _exactly_ how to be boyishly cute.

“I _could_ be.” A slight wiggle of the strong eyebrows, a demure smirk growing up to a shit-eating grin. “_You _could be.”

Teuvo rolls his eyes. Sebastian rolls his hips, a slow shake from side to side. Teuvo can feel him through the comforter that Sebastian has, by the way, started pulling to the side.

The opposite of subtle.

“C’mon,” Sebastian snarls, “I’m bored. Cuddle?”

* * *

Sebastian doesn’t always ask. Teuvo knows he didn’t ask the first time.

Sebastian was still staying in Teuvo's apartment which was nice in its own way: somebody forcing Teuvo to put away the dishes after eating by setting an example Teuvo couldn’t but follow, collecting empty soda cans from surfaces regularly and taking them to recycling. Using the hamper instead of floor to store dirty laundry.

And, what was more, just chattering away in Finnish, asking for advice which made Teuvo feel all grown-up and important even though he knew little more about Raleigh than the rookie himself. Giggling, poking at him; always bringing or making coffee for two without asking. Being, in general, a cozy and nice companion.

They were lounging on Teuvo’s couch that evening, side by side because his couch was small, watching TV. Nothing special was on; Teuvo surfed idly from channel to channel.

Suddenly Sebastian’s forearm twitched and tensed against his. Teuvo glanced quickly to his side and noticed Sebastian’s eyes fixed on the screen.

The TV was showing a travel show, or maybe an ad, but with a highly unexpected choice of images: there was the stupid fat policeman statue on the market square of Sebastian’s hometown Oulu, snow falling slowly to add on the white layer already covering its round features.

The camera panned over the red brick wall of an old building next to the statue and other newer and older townhouses, drove over a snow-covered street decorated with overhead Christmas lights. It went on to show large icicles hanging on the sides of a dam controlling waterfalls on a steadily running wide stream.

Sebastian’s jaw was clenched tight, eyes wide. The picture was cut to a camera drive over iced sea and Sebastian shut his eyes tight, lips pursed in an equally tight line.

Teuvo lifted the remote control to click on to the next channel when the TV cut to a scene of darker skies, colorful northern lights flaming against ink blue.

“Don’t,” Sebastian said in a suffocated voice.

Teuvo put the remote down and wrapped his arm across Sebastian’s shoulders, pulling him snug to his side. Sebastian leaned into him, eased his body relaxed to his side, rubbing his head to the nook of his chest and neck. Teuvo hugged him with both arms, warm and tight, pressing his cheek to Sebastian’s hair, and inhaled the faint greasy scent.

Sebastian’s breath eased down gradually as Teuvo petted the head resting against his chest, then his lap, the energetic athletic body curled like a fetus on the snug space left on the seat. The sceneries of Northern Finland had given way for generic beer ads, and Teuvo changed the channel; he found tennis and they watched it in silence, Teuvo’s hand resting on the side of Sebastian’s neck, his steady pulse under his fingertips.

* * *

Teuvo sighs like a parent who’s _so_ done with his kid’s antics and gives in just because sometimes you have to pick your battles. He shifts sluggishly onto his back and lets Sebastian slip under the covers.

He can see from Sebastian’s face that he isn’t buying his reluctance, not at all.

Sebastian’s weight feels different like this, no uncomfortable angles, just warm and familiar and alive, stomach flush against his own. Thighs and legs relaxed, resting partly on his own, partly between them. He presses his cheek on Teuvo’s, nuzzles his ear, the tip of his nose is cold but warms up. Sebastian hugs him and his breath hits the side of his neck, humid huffs as Sebastian shifts for comfort.

Sebastian stops to prop himself up with straight arms, looks Teuvo in the eye, worries his bottom lip with his teeth. His eyes twinkle, he has red patches of blush on his cheeks and neck. His silver chain hangs out of the neckline of his T-shirt.

Teuvo hooks his finger in the hanging loop and pulls him down for a kiss.

It is a good kiss. It’s tender and soft but passionate, a very _Sebastian _kiss in the way it feels heated by the fire that constantly burns inside him, the movement of his lips like the outermost flickers of its flames. Sebastian’s chest lowers to rest on Teuvo’s, hands cup his face, gently brushing his hair back from his temples, fingertips sinking between the strands, tight little circles on his scalp.

When Sebastian pulls back, Teuvo doesn’t give in right away, chases his lips lifting his head from the pillow. Sebastian laughs softly but silences soon, stops and looks at Teuvo, eyes suddenly dead serious. Leaning to his fist, fiddling with Teuvo’s hair with his other hand.

“You will miss me.”

A chuckle dies on Teuvo’s lips before he points out that it’s pretty obnoxious to state it _that_ way around.

_You’re right_, his heart, brain and eyes say.

“No. You’ll miss me,” he says out loud.

* * *

Sebastian didn’t say he’d miss Teuvo the previous time, either, the time when he moved out of Teuvo’s apartment.

Sebastian had been asked aside after the morning skate. He was silent when he returned to the lounge where Teuvo was waiting to give him his ride home. Later, in the car, he chattered nervously about ice cream flavors and gaming and the morning cartoons of his childhood until Teuvo cut him off.

“What was it?” he asked when he parked in the garage of their apartment complex.

“What was what?” Sebastian chuckled nervously and slammed the car door shut on his side.

“What did they say to you? What don’t you want to talk about?”

Sebastian bit his lip and looked down for a couple of steps towards the door of the elevator, his small duffle bag slamming to his hip. Gradually a smile lit up his face and he lifted his gaze off the floor.

“They said that it looks like I’m staying up for a while. And that it means that I might want to start looking for a place to live on my own.”

The elevator let out an electric ping and the doors slid open. Sebastian stepped inside backwards, looking tentatively at Teuvo, like expecting to read a reaction from his face.

Teuvo nodded slowly, a smile slowly rising on his lips, and stepped into the elevator next to Sebastian. He cupped his shoulder, gave it a warm little nudge that made Sebastian sway to the side.

“Dude!”

It was a notable message from the team, not too unexpected, but a clear mark of accomplishment. Teuvo felt a breeze of happiness for Sebastian move through his being, even a hint of pride swelling his chest. Like a part of the moment belonged to him: after all, this was _his_ rookie, _his_ countryman. _His _boy taking big steps.

He wanted to pull Sebastian into a real hug but wasn’t sure how to do it because this was no post-goal frenzy. Should he slide his arm across his back for a hearty half-hug? Take a step to face Sebastian and throw his both arms around him?

The elevator made the decision for him: it reached their floor before he did anything, stopped softly opened its electric doors.

“It will be different, you know,” Sebastian said in the apartment. “Living alone.”

He took side-steps in the kitchen, taking a bottle of water, short sips, holding the water inside his cheeks before swallowing.

“I know. How will I get used to it again? When you’re not pestering me all the time,” Teuvo teased.

Sebastian squinted to answer his smile, careful not to giggle with mouth full of water.

_Adorable goofy kid, fucking adorable_. Some drops of water trickled out of the pursed seam of Sebastian’s dry lips on them. Teuvo had to look away, a lump in his throat.

* * *

Sebastian squints, when he smiles like that his big almond eyes narrow into little slanted lines and Teuvo would die for him.

“Why won’t you come to the Worlds?”

“It’s too early to say I won’t. The season hasn’t even ended yet.”

Sebastian opens his mouth as if to say something but doesn’t. He sighs instead and hangs his head, eyes frozen in a dead stare at some spot on Teuvo’s neck.

Teuvo shouldn’t have mentioned the season ending. There are too few games to climb anywhere near the playoff line and Teuvo knows Sebastian hates it, he has been in winning teams for so long in his young life that loss hits him with the weight of a planet, bleak and suffocating.

“Come here,” Teuvo whispers. He wraps his arms around Sebastian’s back and pulls him to a tight hug. Sebastian lets it happen, relaxes into the embrace.

Teuvo strokes the smooth hair, all its length to the nape of Sebastian’s neck. He lets his fingertips slide down the neckline, rolls the chain idly back and forth on Sebastian’s skin.

“Yeah I’ll miss you. But we’ll meet in the summer. Let’s take all the same charity games. You’ll come to the Bermuda cup. I’ll come to Qstock.”

Sebastian shakes his resting head, his face rubs over Teuvo’s collarbones.

“I don’t mean summer,” he mumbles into Teuvo’s shirt. “I wasn’t thinking about it. You’ll get a single room for road games next season.”

Teuvo chuckles, his chest bounces under Sebastian.

“Who knows where I am next season.”

“Bullshit. We’d be dumb to let you go. You’re the best trade ever.”

Teuvo’s heart makes a warm jump in his chest, it’s so not like Sebastian to give sudden praise with no hidden spikes. He pets Sebastian’s hair again and pecks a kiss to follow his touch.

“Aww. Says the best draft pick ever.”

It’s Sebastian’s turn to chuckle.

“You’re funny.”

They just lie there, breaths catching a common rhythm. Inhale, exhale, rising and descending in perfect unison, sinking into the warm cloud of the memory foam mattress.

Teuvo feels sleep calling him, dragging him down into its fuzzy nothingness.

* * *

Footsteps in the kitchen kept Teuvo awake. Sebastian was running water from the tap, opened the fridge door, shut it again.

A blunt quiet _thud_, sounded like Sebastian had kicked his toe on one of the boxes again, how much stuff had he gathered in just a few weeks? A mumbled _vittu_, it must have hurt.

Teuvo sighed and rolled onto his other side, face towards the door.

“Sepe?”

The door cracked open, letting a narrow sliver of light into the room until Sebastian’s face blocked it. He opened the door a little more, slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. He stood there, hand on the doorknob, leaned to the frame half-awkwardly like he was uncertain if he should be there. Bare feet, black boxer briefs, loose white T-shirt, one bent knee jerking restlessly.

“Can’t you sleep?” Teuvo asked.

“Can I come in?”

It was obvious Sebastian didn’t mean the room since he was already in. Teuvo nodded and shuffled backwards on the bed to make space.

Sebastian lifted the blanket slid in smoothly, glared at Teuvo, eyes gleaming in the dim light from outside the window.

“Last night here,” Sebastian said. He placed his hand palm down on the pillow between their faces, stroked the white fabric with his fingertips, staring at them for a while before his gaze softened from the edgy glare and he lifted his eyes to Teuvo again. A few strands of long hair hung over his eyes, Teuvo’s hand almost twitched with desire to tuck them behind his ear but he kept his hand under his cheek.

“You’ll only move downstairs,” Teuvo pointed out. He lifted his hand hesitantly and placed it over Sebastian’s. He looked cautiously at Sebastian’s face, making sure he didn’t look like he wanted to pull his hand out. “You can knock on the ceiling whenever you feel you’re not bugging me enough. With a broom. Or a stick.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Poking device,” he said. He curled his hand under Teuvo’s, rubbing the underside of his fingers with his knuckles.

“You got it.”

Sebastian smiled. “I’ve got you.”

It was so cheesy, almost too cheesy, but too fucking sincere.

“Always.” Teuvo couldn’t help smiling softly as he said it.

Talk about cheesy. Maybe it was the night that did it: darkness smooths many kinds of awkward bumps.

Sebastian turned his hand around under his touch, palm up, laced their fingers loosely together.

“I’ve been thinking –“ he said, voice trailing off, like he didn’t know how to continue. He blinked a few times, looked at Teuvo’s mouth, his eyes, his mouth again.

Teuvo held his breath, and Sebastian leaned forward and his lips were on Teuvo’s, closed and dry but soft, a gentle chaste kiss, and like testing the waters Sebastian pulled back and watched his face for a reaction.

Teuvo didn’t know what face he was making because whatever it was, Sebastian kissed him again and it was not gentle or chaste, it was underbite teeth scratching his lower lip, it was tongue and hungry little noises, it was desperate, raw, heartbreakingly vulnerable. Lips and teeth, Sebastian, Sebastian’s mouth and hands, Sebastian’s hair falling on his face, his chest and knee and hips crowding into his space, pushing into him, against his body, sounds of his breath, puffs of warm air from his nose on his face. Taste, smell, fingers in his hair, skin under his fingers, smooth tight chest under the oversize T-shirt, heartbeat against the palm of his hand. More high moans into his mouth.

A boner that was hard to ignore. His own. Not his own. Eyes asking, whisper “_Jooko, _Yeah?” “_Joo_, Yeah,” Sebastian’s hand was big and strong from working the stick for ages, that teethy mouth hit his again, attacking in its teenage-awkward angle, his lips would be so puffy and bit after this but like fuck did he mind it, so would Sebastian’s pretty, pretty pink little mouth.

Hot little whimpers when he inched his hand into the briefs, scooped balls on his hand, the elastic waistband squeezing his wrist tight against the erection, moist drops on his skin. He gathered Sebastian’s hair in his other hand, curled it inside a tight fist, the angle of the mouth better now, its moves just as frantic and desperate as before.

He mimicked the rhythm with his hand until he didn’t have to.

* * *

Sebastian shifts on top of him, shuffling from side to side. Now his knee is digging in between Teuvo’s thighs, pressing down, then up, down, rubbing up again.

“Hey!” Teuvo says as softly as he can. “You’re squishing my balls.”

Sebastian chuckles, the held-back inner laugh shaking his body on Teuvo's. He moves his thighs slightly to the side, eases the pressure. It’s better. _Much_ better.

“Sorry.”

Sebastian shifts, finds what he’s looking for, rolls against Teuvo’s dick now.

Much, _much_ better.

“No problem,” Teuvo whispers.

Sebastian’s lips press on his chin, trace his jawline towards the neck with wet, gently biting kisses.

How far they have come in a matter of months.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

Sebastian's question hits him with a surprise. No, they haven't got_ this_ far before, never.

“I –“ Teuvo says slowly, dragging it out because the more he is surprised, the more he needs to buy time, “ - We don’t have to.”

Sebastian rolls his hips sideways, the movement drapes his shirt around his waist, shimmies it up on one side.

“I know you have lube.”

Teuvo is about to point out that Sebastian shouldn’t go through his bags even if they stay in the same hotel room but he realizes that oh yeah, actually Sebastian _knows_. It’s only days since he used it, Sebastian _loved_ being fingered while getting head, and Sebastian knows the contents of his carry-on have been the same ever since.

“Are you sure?” Teuvo’s hand hits the bare skin on Sebastian’s waist, there’s no reason he shouldn’t touch it so he does, slides it up towards the ribs, enjoys feeling slight tremble of the toned muscles. “I mean. We haven’t –“

“It’s the _only_ thing that we haven’t,” Sebastian interrupts him. He puts his fingertip on Teuvo’s bottom lip and traces its curve from the middle to the corner. It tickles, and Teuvo rubs his lips together. Sebastian waits, puts the finger back, traces the outline of his upper lip next, slower. Somehow he amps up the intensity of his eyes, Teuvo would like to know how he does it, how he makes his coffee brown gaze ooze concentrated warmth. “Don’t you want me?”

It’s a low blow, straight under the belt. If Teuvo’s dick had a mouth it would shout _YES, _especially when Sebastian enhances his questioning by intently grinding against it. It’s good, so good that Teuvo just _has_ to let his both hands slide down on Sebastian’s buttocks, pull him close with a good grip.

Sebastian lets out a pleased hum from his throat, kisses Teuvo deep, his hip rolls undulating steadily tighter and tighter down on him, warming them both up. It’s getting hot under the comforter and Teuvo’s shirt is riding up, not by itself, he notices, Sebastian is bunching the hem up from between them. It’s skin on skin now which doesn’t make him feel any cooler, quite the opposite.

He finds his fingers under the waistband of Sebastian’s shorts, peels them down. Sebastian helps him enthusiastically, squirming out of them, kicking and toeing them down his legs, Christ it’s happening fast, Teuvo wants wants wants but should they –

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers slightly out of breath, “do you – have you ever – “

“I want it to be you,” Sebastian says and kisses him again, hanging hair framing his face, “I know I want to try.”

He’s so sincere. Of course he wants to try because he is _Sebastian_, confident that it’ll be good, always up to anything new, never in doubt if he’ll land on his feet. Still – Teuvo knows how easily things can get screwed up, knows how it is to lose his virginity to a teammate right before summer. Knows what too much time to spend with doubts and remorse does to your head, how it can leave things awkward for a long time.

It took years to get back on track.

But Sebastian is not him, and Teuvo is not _him,_ and there’s no reason to bring his own hang-ups in this bed now.

“Sure thing, babe,” Teuvo says, “How –“

He’s about to say _How do you want it _when Sebastian gets up and straddles him, undresses his own T-shirt pulling it over his head and tosses it aside. He’s naked and gorgeous, and starts shifting on his knees towards the foot of the bed, pulling Teuvo’s pants down as he goes. He leaves them halfway, content to get his dick in sight, and takes it in his mouth, deep, deeper.

Teuvo hits the back of Sebastian’s palate and Sebastian adjusts his position over him. It’s deeper back in the wetness, Teuvo feels Sebastian’s midriff flex against his leg with gagging reflex and he gently nudges his forehead, hushing him.

“Easy, Sepe –“

Ear-shattering high noise fills the air, it comes from the ceiling, from the hallway, everywhere.

“Fire alarm!” Teuvo says and nudges harder, Sebastian lifts his head. “We gotta go.”

“It must be false,” Sebastian groans but starts gathering himself up.

A synthetic female voice speaks through the door over the continuous loud whistle. _“Fire alarm. Please leave your room and follow the exit signs. Fire alarm. Please leave your room and follow the exit signs.”_

Sebastian wraps the comforter around himself like a cape. Teuvo pulls his underpants up and picks a up pair or sweatpants from the floor, hoping it does a bit better job than just underwear hiding his boner, and for some extra cover, throws a suit jacket over the T-shirt.

There’s crowd gathered in the corridor, slowly huddling towards the green exit light. Jeff Skinner casts an amused look at their outfits and opens his mouth as if to say something when a firefighter walks past them, waving one hand up high.

“False alarm. Smoke from the grill in the kitchen!” he exclaims.

“I told you,” Sebastian glooms tiredly at Teuvo from his white duvet wrap.

Teuvo shrugs and lets him back in the room.

“So,” Teuvo says in the room, taking off his jacket, hanging it on the back of the desk chair. He should bother with hangers more often, but – no.

Sebastian strolls in front of him in his puffy comforter wrap.

“I think we had something we need to finish,” he says to Teuvo, eyes dark and intense in his.

“Are you sure this is a good time?” He nods towards the door like it had some significance. “With the fire alarm and all. We still have games.”

Sebastian takes a step closer. He loosens his grip of the comforter, lets it down to bare his shoulders like a starlet in an old Hollywood melodrama.

“Come on.” Yet another half-step closer. He takes a deep breath and huffs it out like he was frustrated as hell, and rolls his eyes. “If you say I _have_ to keep fingering myself and dreaming about your dick for much longer –“ he stops for a dramatic pause “—I will _die_.”

Teuvo bites his lip to hold back a thoroughly amused smile. Drama queen. The little prince will be the death of _him_, but what the hell.

He places his hand on the side of Sebastian’s neck and leans in to kiss the corner of his lip.

“Well. I don’t want to be the one to kill our team’s future.”

Sebastian lets the comforter slip further down, it rests on his folded forearms now, flowing down to the floor.

“_We_ are our team’s future.”

Now Teuvo _really_ has to stifle a laugh. Drama queen, was it? Indeed.

“In that case,” he says, “get on the bed, rookie.”

Sebastian breaks into a grin, backs to the bed, throws the cover there and sits on the edge of the mattress.

“How do you want me?”

“That’s for you to decide,” Teuvo says, digging into his bag for lube in calm moves. “Do you want to get on your knees and flaunt that pretty ass up high?” He turns and steps slowly closer to bed, dropping his sweatpants as he walks and speaks, then his shirt, eyes on Sebastian. “Or do you want to look at me when I fuck you?”

Sebastian has backed to the middle of his bed, lies on his back in a half-sitting position, bent legs ajar, giving loose strokes on his standing dick, bursting in seams with horny energy.

“This,” he says. “I think I wanna see you.”

Teuvo grabs Sebastian’s ankle and yanks him flat on his back, guides his legs up and apart. The foam mattress lets Sebastian's weight sink in, gives secure comportable support to Teuvo's knees.

“What do you want, rookie?”

It’s one of the last days he can say so, and he appreciates how Sebastian lets him enjoy the blatant cheesiness.

“Fuck me, Teukka. Fuck my ass. _Pane mua. __Ihan saatanan lujaa._”

“You say if you need me to stop, at any point, you hear me?” Teuvo says as he’s feeling him up and Sebastian nods enthusiastically, almost impatiently.

Sebastian is responsive but oh so tight to his fingers that Teuvo is almost worried to push in but Sebastian spurs him to come on with horny pleas. He’s so _fucking_ tight around his cock, and a moment of distress shows on his vivid face, his eyes, but he doesn’t let Teuvo pull back.

“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Sebastian’s body relaxes into it, bit by bit. His eyes meet Teuvo’s, it’s such a wordless connection, _we’re in this together, can you believe_, and they totally are. Sebastian’s legs hook him under his arms, he uses his strong core to buck up to meet Teuvo, tight, hot. Hands tight fists on the sheets, mouthing wordlessly.

Sebastian feels so good and he needs to hear it. He fucking appreciates hearing it, responding Teuvo’s thrusts with deep moans. Teuvo dares to lift Sebastian’s legs higher, bent the bitch fucking twofold because he can take it, and it’s even better that way.

Teuvo comes anchored in deep, lets Sebastians feet down, helps him out with his hand. Sebastian’s thighs tense, the thin skin on his groin trembling, his hips jolt up. His neck arches up, eyes shut, hair sprawled to all directions surrounding his face, deep in blissful ecstasy.

Sebastian is a bundle of bubbly warm energy when he comes to his senses. He rides the same kind of happy high he does after a winning game, unstoppable beaming grin, upbeat giddy giggles.

“Please don’t tell anyone I said we are our team’s future,” he smiles at Teuvo.

Teuvo smiles back. Figures. Little prince drama queen, worried about his public image.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep your cockiness a secret. They’ll find out about it in due time.”

They kiss, and kiss again.

Maybe this hasn’t been their year, but in a way it has. Totally _theirs._

And the future: Totally _theirs_ too, if they make it so.

And, come on, what’s stopping them.

**the end**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate all feedback; kudos and comments most welcome.
> 
> I'm [caixxa](https://caixxa.tumblr.com) and [ badhockeymom](https://badhockeymom.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.


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